


Balancing the Books

by LuckyPenny36



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Celestial Accounting, Dealing with Management, Demonic Accounting, Fan Fiction is Cheaper Than Therapy, Gen, Ineffable Bureaucracy, The Books Must Balance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-09-28 08:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20423309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyPenny36/pseuds/LuckyPenny36
Summary: What happens to the celestial accounting system when Armageddon suddenly isn’t? This is the story of the angels and demons left cleaning up the expensive mess and the steps they take to sort it all out.“All the incoming souls just went poof?”





	1. Out of Order

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading Balancing the Books. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing about the misunderstood minions behind the scenes that are the foundation of any bureaucracy, and so often taken for granted.
> 
> LuckyPenny36

Dateline: Monday morning, the second day of the rest of the world

Dagon roared and stalked down to the subcavern where the demonic accounting trolls toiled in unending gloom. Rumor had it they liked it that way - endless lines of ledgers shoved into shelves and piled in looming stacks on desks that looked as if they couldn’t possibly hold the weight for a moment longer. Her realm. Not that she ever ventured down here without a reason, of course. She was Dagon. She didn’t trouble herself with every temptation expense report and soul capture receipt. That’s what she had trolls for after all, drudges to toil away at the endless mind-numbing work of reconciling the accounts. Until today.

She had been lurking quietly in her office, contemplating all the overtime that would be required to process the souls already descending as Armageddon began to rage, when suddenly her own private, demonically enhanced, animated ledger froze, the numbers on the page blinked for a moment, and the damned souls account began to steadily drop, deflating like a suddenly punctured air mattress. She would find out exactly which inept troll was making a hash of her realm, and, Dagon cackled to herself, they would pay.

Meanwhile… on a higher, lighter, floor…

The Archangel Gabriel sailed into a large white office.

“Good work, Azariel. I see the incoming blessed souls have all been processed and it’s barely noon.”

“Sir, please sir, Azariel’s not here.”

“Well, who processed the incoming souls then? You, uh..,” Gabriel glanced at the quivering angel’s celestial identity marker, “Medanel? Is that why you haven’t processed all the miracle receipts from yesterday?” He waved an angelic hand at the growing pile of glowing slips in the overflowing inbox next to the young angel’s desk.

“No sir. Those came in just in the last hour sir. I am processing them as quickly as I can sir.”

“Then you had better get back to it.” Gabriel turned to another angel cowering in the far corner of the room, “Netaniel, did you process the incoming souls?”

“No sir.”

“Then do you know where Azariel is?”

“Right behind you sir.”

Gabriel turned slowly on his heel. “Where in all Heaven have you been?”

“Looking for you sir.”

“Looking for me. In Heaven’s name why? You’re supposed to be here, working. You know that don’t you Azariel, or would you rather I sent you back to the celestial choir master?”

Azariel squeaked. “No sir. There isn’t any work to do sir. That’s what I was coming to talk to you about.”

“What do you mean no more work? Blessed souls really haven’t been coming in?”

“Not since about nine o’clock this morning. There was a pile right there and I was just starting to work, when they all disappeared, poof, and the bin’s been like you see it ever since.”

“All the incoming souls just went poof?”

“Just like that sir. One minute they were there and the next they were gone, poof. Yes sir, poof.”

“All right, you three get to work on those miracle receipts. I want them all done before you quit for the day. I’m going to look into this.”

All three angels cast very unangelic looks at his departing back.

Meanwhile in the subcavern…

Dagon rumbled in breathing fire. “Who is responsible for this? What damn fool demonic troll is liquidating the damned souls account?”

The trolls didn’t look up.

“Answer me! I am Dagon, Lord of the Files! I own you.”

The head troll oozed up to her. “None of us sir. They stopped coming in about an hour ago. Gorgon was supposed to be coming to your office to tell you.”

“Humph! I’ll deal with him later. I have to see Lord Beelzebub about this. In the meantime, GET BACK TO WORK YA FILTHY MAGGOTS!”

The bravest of the trolls stuck their tongues out at her retreating back, but they carried on processing temptation expense reports anyway.


	2. Consultations with *Higher* Authorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, both Dagon and Gabriel assess the magnitude of the problem.
> 
> “It is only a temporary processing glitch. RIGHT?”

“Michael! What do you mean Armageddon is indefinitely postponed?!? What in heaven’s name am I supposed to do with all the miracle expenses you lot have been piling up over the last eleven years?” Gabriel stared at the disembodied head in the celestial communication circle, literally speechless with astonishment and rage.

“You’ll have to cut a few expenses I suppose? Trim a few frivolous accounts to bring the books into balance.”

“Trim expenses, I see. I’m supposed to find enough credit for several billion small and medium sized miracles by trimming a few expenses… can you at least tell me when the normal pre-Armageddon level of incoming blessed souls will be restored? It is only a temporary processing glitch. RIGHT?”

“Not exactly… Can’t you just move the expenses somewhere, do some of what the humans like to call creative accounting?”

“Creative Accounting? CREATIVE ACCOUNTING?!? Of course, why didn’t I think of it? I know! Because it is an utterly stupid, unangelic and completely inappropriate suggestion that I refuse to dignify with further comment. How DARE you Michael? I shudder to think what SHE would say if SHE knew we had even discussed such an idea.”

“You’ll come up with something Gabriel. You always do. That’s why SHE put YOU in charge of the celestial accounting division.”

“That’s right, SHE did, and as the head of the Celestial Accounting Division, I am telling you, oh great and glorious Michael, to get used to some pretty austere belt-tightening for awhile. Balancing the books after this fiasco is going to require some DEEP and painful budget cuts.”

Before Michael could do more than splutter, Gabriel closed the connection between them with a satisfying, if somewhat hollow, SNAP. He sailed out of the room at full blow ready to start slashing budgets, starting with Michael’s personal expense account.

Meanwhile, on a lower floor, Dagon confronted Beelzebub, her face apoplectic with rage. 

“Armageddon is postponed indefinitely you say! Indefinitely? Harrumph! What am I supposed to do with the all the expenses incurred by the buildup? Subterfuge and temptations, corporeal forms for millions of demons, transportation to the fields of Megiddo, not to mention eleven years of preparation and careful ground work and raising a very expensive hell hound only to have him transform into a pathetic little terrier, a perfectly normal dog. Well what now? No damned souls coming in, at least not for awhile, and a mountain of expenses to account for.”

Beelzebub swatted a fly impatiently. “So, trim a few of those expenses, Dagon. What do you expect me to do about it? You storm in here at full boil, disrupting my recuperation, and expect me to do what? Start Armageddon all by myself without benefit of an AntiChrist or a budget to speak of? Balancing the books is YOUR job, not mine.”

“You’re damned right it is my job, and I will do it the way I see fit. Trim a few expenses they says, humph. How in hell’s name am I supposed to find enough credit for billions of temptations, hell hounds and preparations by trimming a few frivolous expenditures?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Do whatever you need to do to balance the books, Dagon, but you can damned well do it without ME.” With that caustic remark, Beelzebub turned on their heel, snapped their fingers, and left.

Dagon chortled. (1)

She’d cut expenses all right, lots of expenses, starting with Beelzebub’s personal expense account.

(1) Well not exactly chortled. There isn’t an exact word in English for the cruel, ironic, demonic sound that came out of Dagon’s throat, but chortle is a reasonably close approximation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How exactly are Gabriel and Dagon going to trim expenses? Watch this space for Chapter 3: Workforce Management.
> 
> LuckyPenny36


	3. Workforce Management

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which both Dagon and Gabriel, frustrated with the lack of direction and urgency from their respective Head Offices, delegate the chore of finding expenses to cut to underlings and vent some of their frustrations on them as well.
> 
> “It was the end of a long miserable day, and Naboth had had enough, even the hellhound pens had to be better than this.”

“Are the blessed souls going to be coming in soon, Gabriel? We finished entering all the expenses, but without that revenue the books won’t balance.”

“No they aren’t going to be coming in. Armageddon didn’t happen. We’re just going to have to start cutting the expenses to make the books balance.” Gabriel sighed. “Bring out the big ledger, Medanel. It’s time to go over the expense budgets, ALL of the expense budgets.”

“Right away sir.” Medanel straightened his identification badge. “Come on, Netaniel. It’ll be easier with two.”

In a few moments, the two junior angels heaved a large ledger onto the desk in front of Gabriel.

The Archangel started scanning pages. One by one, he ruled out expense after expense as absolutely necessary, with only a few minor exceptions that totaled less than one thousand soul credits. He was tempted (2) to throw the ledger across the room or start erasing expense budgets at random, but that would be… unangelic and ultimately, ineffective.

He looked at his notes, they were still over 900 million soul credits out of balance. Gabriel sighed. There just weren’t many celestial expense accounts big enough to absorb that level of sudden withdrawal of credits. He shoved the ledger at Medanel and barked, “Find me enough unnecessary expense budgets to account for 997,650,258 soul credits. Anything not certified as critical to ongoing celestial operations is eligible to be cut.” He stood up abruptly and began pacing.

“But…” Medanel stammered, not exactly sure how the Archangel expected him to accomplish such a monumental task, “but sir, that’s more than the entire budget for our office. Your glorious self excepted of course.”

“I KNOW THAT MEDANEL! Just DO It!”

Medanel cursed lightly under his breath, a very unangelic act, but there it was. “That’s going to take a little time to compile, sir.”

“I’ll be back in two hours, Medanel, whether you three are ready or not, so you’d better get busy. ALL Three of You.”

Dagon rumbled into the subcavern to find the situation pretty much as before. The incoming damned souls bin was still empty, the temptation expense receipts pile still high: all three trolls looked up expectantly.

“Hey, you,” She pointed at the nearest troll, “Bring me the Expense ledger.. the BIG one, right NOW.”

The troll stood up automatically, then stopped, shrugged slightly, and heaved a heavy dusty ledger onto the rickety table nearest to Dagon.

“This is the REVENUE ledger you misbegotten son of a guttersnipe!” Dagon growled. “I told you to bring ME the EXPENSE ledger! Have you gone deaf?”

The troll looked up. “No sir.”

“Then WHY did you bring me the REVENUE ledger, you inept excuse for a slime mold?”

“Isn’t that the ledger for the damned souls account?”

“OF COURSE IT IS YOU FILTHY WORM, BUT I DON’T NEED THE DAMNED SOULS ACCOUNT! I ALREADY KNOW THERE AREN’T ENOUGH REVENUES! GET THE CURSED EXPENSES LEDGER, AND PUT THIS THING AWAY!” Dagon launched the ledger at the troll.

Naboth dodged.

“You SIDE-STEPPED, you worthless piece of dung! I should send you back to the hellhound dens and get a competent demon in here to help me balance these FUCKING books!”

The troll sighed, lurched over to another pile of ledgers, and hoisted the largest one in his gnarled hands. He lurched back across the subcavern and unceremoniously plunked the ledger in front of Dagon.

“Why are you giving this to ME?”

It was the end of a long miserable day, and Naboth had had enough, even the hellhound pens had to be better than this. “You FUCKING asked for it, sir!”

“I told you to GET it, not GIVE it to ME, ya filthy MAGGOT. Now you have exactly two hours to find me enough unneeded demonic expense accounts to cut 995,750,500 soul credits, so we can FUCKING balance these books and get back to business as usual around here. Nothing is OFF limits. Now MOVE.”

As she left the subcavern, Naboth, Wyrm and Wrythe were huddled over the ledger arguing in hushed tones.(3)

(2) Of course, Gabriel wouldn’t acknowledge that he had felt any such thing as temptation. For the briefest fraction of a celestial second, he may have let himself contemplate how good it would feel to throw something, but he took one long breath and the impulse faded under the weight of celestial, more angelic, influences.  
(3) Well, not hushed exactly, they were demons after all, but they did at least make a token effort to keep their voices down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you are still enjoying this romp through the world of celestial accounting turned tops-turvy. Watch this space for Chapter 4: Cutting Budgets - As Efficiently As Possible.
> 
> LuckyPenny36


	4. Cutting Budgets - As Efficiently As Possible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the celestial budgets are trimmed. Although it is accomplished in an unexpected, and perhaps more dramatic, way than either Gabriel or Dagon intended.
> 
> “I said you wouldn’t like it sir, but the books WILL balance sir.”

The office was eerily quiet when Gabriel returned. All three junior angels were at the same desk, peering at a single line in the large ledger.

“WELL, Did you find enough expenses to cut?”

“We did find one… option, sir.”

“Just one. I see, well, what are you waiting for? Do it.”

“Are you sure sir? You’re not going to like it.”

“Of course I’m sure! Cutting expenses is never pleasant, but sometimes it has to be done. The books have to balance. Do It! That’s an order!”

All three junior angels looked at each other in silence for a long moment. Finally Medanel reached for the eraser, and time seemed to slow. Gabriel was feeling off somehow, not quite right. He looked down at where his feet should be, but they were gone. A translucent wavering line was making it’s way steadily up his body leaving only shimmering angelic essence in it’s wake.

“What the…” 

“I said you wouldn’t like it sir, but the books WILL balance sir.”

Light dawned as the line reached his neck. Of course, they were erasing… him! Him, the Archangel Gabriel! He was supposed to be out there leading a battalion of angels against the legions of the damned in the last great war, and instead, he was here. Here being erased by three insubordinate, jumped up clerk angels, because Armageddon wasn’t happening anymore, and why? All because one soft, meddling, pathetic excuse for a Principality had gone native. 

“AZIRAPHALE!”

Gabriel’s voice lingered in the air for a moment, his last corporal word echoing slowly as a very unangelic smug smile spread across Medanel’s face.

“Naboth! Tell me you finished finding expenses to cut, you worthless piece of snail slime!”

All three trolls turned to look at Dagon, but not one of them spoke up.

“Naboth! Wyrm! Wrythe! Someone answer me or I will have you all scooping up hellhound dung by the end of the day!”

The three trolls put their heads together for a moment before Naboth and Wrythe shoved Wyrm forward. “We did find a possible option sir.” Wyrm cringed and seemed to be trying to shrink in on himself.

“Just ONE option. One OPTION! I see. I suppose I should THANK YOU pathetic excuses for demons for actually doing your jobs and finding that much.”

Naboth stepped forward. “Absolutely NOT, Lord! We were able to find a single account to absorb the expense and leave all critical functions well funded to continue demonic operations as usual.”

“Then GET on with IT. Or do I have to come over there and hold your hand, you pathetic excuse for a slug.”

Naboth grabbed an eraser and held it, poised above the ledger. “You won’t be holding anyone’s hand soon, sir.”

“How DARE you talk back to me? I am DAGON, you pathetic little troll. I OWN YOU!” In a white-hot rage, Dagon surged across the subcavern and grabbed Naboth’s neck in both hands just as the troll began to swipe the eraser across the ledger page.

Naboth laughed.

After only the briefest of pauses, Wyrm and Wrythe joined him. Deep mocking guffaws filled the subcavern. Dagon waved her rapidly shrinking arms, threw her head back and howled. Armageddon wasn’t happening, Crowley’s interference had made sure of that and now, now she was being DISCORPORATED to balance the FUCKING books, and cover Crowley’s expenses! “DAMN YOU CROWLEY…” 

Within moments, nothing was left of the LORD of the Files but a dark smudge on the subcavern floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the surprising finish to Balancing the Books in Chapter 5: Friends in Strange Places.
> 
> LuckyPenny36


	5. Friends in Strange Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the minions compare notes and begin to discover they have more in common with each other than they ever thought possible.
> 
> “Hey, bartender! Get the trolls another round on me!”

Later that day, in a dimly lit lounge on the ground floor, Naboth, Wyrm and Wrythe were slouching in a corner and slurping on dully pulsing red-orange drinks when three strangers ambled in. The three interlopers surveyed the room cautiously, clearly uncomfortable in their surroundings, but determined not to leave. Slowly, the tallest of them approached the bar, “Three Fuzzy Navels please.”

“Medanel, you idiot! I want a Tequila Sunrise, not some dumb Fuzzy Navel! After all, it’s not every day you discorporate the Boss.”

“I’m sorry, make that two Fuzzy Navels and one Tequila Sunrise.” Medanel did his best to sound apologetic, but he barely got the words out before the third stranger called out. “Rum and Coke for me please! None of that fizzy peach crap, not today. We’re celebrating!”

Medanel tutted and turned back to the bar. The bartender winked at him and held up the rum bottle. “I heard sir. Your drinks will be ready in a moment.”

Naboth set down his drink and oozed over. “You DISCORPORATED the Boss, Angel?” He hissed.

Medanel spun on his heel. “Who told you that, demon?”

“Relax Angel! What am I going to do tell on you to some Archangel or something?”

Medanel laughed, but it was thin and forced. “Right, how would you even get close enough to tell someone? I mean you’re a troll; it’s not like you have a direct line to the Almighty.”

Naboth smiled broadly, so broadly his razor-sharp canines showed through his slightly drunken leer. “Really, it’s okay Angel, in fact, it’s oddly funny.”

“Are you drunk, troll? What’s funny?”

“No, I’m NOT drunk.” Naboth slurred. “Why would you think that?”

“Never mind about that. What’s so funny?”

“We DISCORPORATED Lord Dagon a few hours ago. I mean, she told us to balance the books, and…”

“And discorporating the Boss was the quickest way to get the job done and get her off your back at the same time!”

“Exactly! Why did you do it?”

“Same thing! I mean if Aziraphale can refuse to fight and interfere just enough to stop Armageddon…”

“I heard he had help from a certain demon by the name of Crowley.”

“Heard that too. Anyway…if they can cooperate enough to stop Armageddon, you think maybe, just maybe, you could stoop to having a drink with a few vaguely rebellious angels?”

“I suppose I could do that... in the name of celestial cooperation.” Naboth did the best he could to wink. “Heaven and Hell, we probably have more in common with each other than we do with our respective Head Offices.”

“Hey, bartender! Get the trolls another round on me!”

Naboth chortled. “I’ll get the next one. I think perhaps we have a lot to talk about.”

******

Somewhere close by and far away, here, there and everywhere at once, SHE laughed – At long LAST, things were proceeding according to plan. If the stubborn Archangels, Principalities, Lords and Princes couldn’t see past a milleniums old war, angelic stock was still angelic stock. The angels and the fallen were finally figuring out they had more in common than separated them, one drink at a time. After all, they were all her children, even, maybe even especially, the rebellious ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Balancing the Books as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you would like to see more of either the angels or trolls in this story, or the fallout from discorporating the Bosses, please let me know in the comments. Thank you.  
LuckyPenny36


End file.
